Magnolia Falling
by Lost in New York
Summary: On a cold spring day, the remnants of winter lingering in the air, his heart beat its own requiem. Mac and Stella. Romance, angst and oh no tragedy.. Story completed.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As much as I have enjoyed writing fluff in AHoT, angst is my thing after all. Things get heavy, so no fluff in this one. Seriously. Some adult material was written, but nothing too graphic. Constructive criticism is always welcome.  
**

**Lily, I'm so grateful for your help and suggestions. Thank you. Mistakes are so mine. **

**Rating: T**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**Magnolia Falling**

**Part I**

_Cerulean and contentment lingers in her body. She smiles, her lips buzzing against his neck, and slides her arms around his neck. Her fingers dance on his nape, and she moves them to rest on his shoulder blades. He breathes and __shudders__,__ and she purrs. Her fingers move with a slow cadence, and lazy circles are drawn on his skin._

-----

I remember the day when I realized that I loved you. It was a cold spring day, as the remnants of winter still lingered in the air, and we walked along the streets toward our favorite coffee shop near the park. I bought you the coffee although you insisted on buying it yourself. It was coffee with milk and two sugars, and I bought a cup of black coffee for myself. You leaned against the counter and nudged gently my shoulder, thanking me.

"Anytime." I offered a smile. "Anytime."

The chill wind stole an audible gasp from you when it swirled around us and played with your caramel curls, as we walked in the park trying to find a bench where we could sit. We weren't the only ones who wanted to enjoy the beaming of the sun despite the coldness. The sun warmed through the barely blooming trees, but not in the way I felt your warmth as our hands accidentally touched, both reaching for the coffee cups between us on the bench. We smiled, shared a moment that brought a blush over your cheeks and made my heart skip a beat pleasantly.

"We should do this more often." You suggested.

"I would like that." I agreed, and we watched the city and its travelers, how the world moved around us, and we, of course, within it with our own cadence.

You sniffed and wiped your nose with a kleenex, complaining about the cold spring days; you waited so badly for the summer days to arrive. You took a sip of the steaming coffee and wrapped your arms around you tighter, shuddering a bit. You were cold, I noticed and wanted to wrap my arms around you protecting you from the coldness. But as shy as I was at that moment, I never did it. I asked if you had any plans for your vacation that you had decided to take later on the summer. You were quiet for a moment, watching the jogging couple bypassing our place, and told me hesitatingly that you had decided to go back to Greece, not knowing if the four week vacation would be enough to explore your mother's country. No other plans were made, you added.

"Huh." I mumbled falling into my thoughts. You noticed right away my absence and turned to look at me. You always noticed if I wasn't present. You always knew if something bothered me. Your smile was small as you said that I didn't need to worry about you.

"I'll always worry about you." I admitted quietly.

Your smile got smaller and smaller before vanishing completely off from your lips, and you breathed in the spring like air, exhaled then, your hand finding mine.

"I guess we do that."

Your hand rested on mine, and my skin hummed beneath your warmth. Eventually, you laced your fingers with mine reassuringly and silently, and I watched the sun beaming on your face, your face tilted toward the cerulean sky. That was how we were, holding each other far away from the prying eyes.

"I'll come back, Mac." You said, and I followed your gaze. Closing my eyes, accepting the decision you had made, already missing you, and feeling my heart beating its own requiem I realized on the cold spring day that I loved you.

---

People pass me by as I walk down the street. I am on my way to meet you. It is a spring again, and the trees haven't reached the birth of blossoming yet as they hadn't a year ago either.

I visited Danny's family a day ago. I dropped my present for Lucy a little earlier this year, but I guess she doesn't mind playing with her new toy. She will be two soon, you know. I remember when we all celebrated Lucy's first birthday. You held her in your arms while Lindsay cut the cake. Danny chuckled something about us spoiling the child with our presents, but was, of course, grateful for the dedicated attention their firstborn got. Lucy's tiny giggling was joyful as she played with your curls, wrapping her small fingers around them. We all laughed and teased you about it. You just smiled and let the child memorize her godmother, before giving the child into her mother's arms. I sat opposite you, and you looked at me underneath your dark eyelashes. Everything changed then. The pressure in my chest tightened as I witnessed your eyes glimmering, and God, I shared your solitude.

We left the Messer's apartment and walked along the streets, the magnolia trees blossoming and their scent lingering around us, as the late spring day's sunset colored our path. We ended up by the river. The weather was warm, because I remember you wearing a sleeveless, shimmery dress. The mild wind played with the chiffon of it, the air gracing your legs as we strolled along. The summer was on its way. You looked so beautiful when the sunset's colors overthrew you. I glanced up at the sky admiring the colors changing from the blue hue into the different shades of red of the sunset before noticing that you had stopped walking. I turned to look at you and saw the rays sparkling in your eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" You captured my gaze.

"Nothing…" I replied too quickly.

You got all serious then, I could tell. Disappointed, you frowned and opened your mouth, but closed it, sucking your lower lip. I wanted to know what bothered you, but all I could do was to memorize your beauty, the rest of the world fading away. We stared at each other for a long moment. From where I absorbed the courage, I couldn't know, but with the unseen strength I stepped toward you.

"Well actually, Stell, I was thinking about you." I cleared my throat, finding those words sparkling on the tip of my tongue, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Oh." You breathed, knowing, blushing. Still you wanted a proof, so you asked. "Why?"

My gaze swept across your face from your lips to eyes. "This is why." And I simply leaned closer, sealing our proximity, and your eyes fluttered close. Cerulean, you whispered against my lips. What, I thought to ask, but the moment you deepened our kiss, your lips and tongue tantalizing, your hands around my neck, I forgot everything about in the living life.

"How long?" I rasped against your lips, my heart shattering in million pieces because I had no idea, I had no goddamn idea how long you would be gone in Greece.

"I don't know." Your breath swept across my cheek, and you turned to witness the deep flow of the water, your chest heaving, your eyes watering. "There is so much for me to see, Mac. I… I just have to go. My mother lived there. Maybe… Maybe there is more for me."

"How long?" I begged to know.

"I don't know." You sighed at me and gave your best smile your voice too strangled. "But I'll come back."

I follow the journey we walked, and it's a late afternoon. The heavy clouds stand, the air doesn't move and the water flows with its own force as the life itself without any reasons. The world looks so different in the shades of grey.

---

There are restaurants down by the river, and I walk past them. Moussaka, I smell. The smell of that delicious food was one of the scents that floated in your apartment when you welcomed me in, wearing another dress, a glint in your eyes dancing in anticipation. "Hey."

"Hey." I kissed you inside your apartment before handing the bottle of wine to you. You kissed me back as a thank you, but your kiss was a prelude as well. I felt it, the feverish and lingering touch of longing. During the spring and early summer months our relationship changed from friendship into the intimate relationship, but as coy as we were we wanted to conceal us being involved with each other from the world. Being hidden lovers suited us. You guided me further into your apartment and handed me a glass of wine, telling me about the Greek dinner you had prepared. We toasted to your upcoming journey, but I wouldn't have done it if I had known what was going to happen.

You spoke about everything during the dinner, laughing at some warm memories what brought tears of affection in your eyes, and my lips curled into a comforting smile every time an unspoken memory weighed down you. When you brought me the dessert, feeling more delighted, I got the scent of the dazzling fragrance of sweet, spicy scent mixed with a touch of citrus floating around you.

"Magnolia." You stood beside me and placed gently your hand on my shoulder. You were so close that I felt your radiating warmth. "The flower." You explained, nodding toward the living room drawer, and on it stood the vase full of white magnolias. "You can smell them, don't you?"

"Oh, I thought it was your new perfume…" I snaked my arm around your waist, pulling you closer, and breathed in.

Your laugh bubbled deep in your chest, your eyes sparkling like two diamonds, and you leaned to whisper into ear your voice hoarse. "No, Mac. I have nothing on me…"

"God, woman…" I groaned, feeling myself suddenly heated as I couldn't stop the images of you.

"What?" You purred, your curls falling along your bare shoulders. "You thought that I couldn't flirt, Mac?"

I never questioned your skills to draw a man on his knees in front of you, because I was fallen already.

We continued our easy and comfortable evening in the living room. You sipped your wine, your legs curled underneath you, as we sat on the sofa. Your right arm rested on the arm rest, your fingers grazing my nape and the ends of my hair. "Cerulean." You leaned further into me. "It's my favorite color."

I eyed your apartment, the shades of white from magnolia to seashell fallen in the perfect rest with each other. "Huh, I thought it was white." I mumbled, turning my gaze back to you.

You shook your head, placed your wine glass beside mine on the living room table and slid your free hand over the sapphire material of your dress, chuckling lightly. "I prefer blue."

"Well, it looks good on you." I commented, making you blush. You never were good at having compliments.

You cast your gaze down momentarily before looking into my eyes again, continuing. "Cerulean, it's the color of the sky…"

"And?" I guessed there was more to come, and there was.

"And it's the color of your eyes when you aren't troubled." You added shyly. I didn't know what specific happenings you referred to, but I was honest with you saying: "I'm not troubled now. Stell." I looked at you and leaned to caress the side of you face. All my troubles and worries were always forgotten in the solace of your closeness. "You know that right?"

"I know." You murmured before kissing me, and the wine glasses were forgotten.

We stumbled toward the bedroom, and I could smell the dazzling scent of magnolias all over you. You pressed yourself against me in your bedroom, the flash in your eyes anything but regret, and after you finished unbuttoning my shirt your hands fumbled with the belt of my pants. I tasted the wine from your lips every time they touched and felt you trembling as I undressed you, the sapphire dress falling off you. You looked so beautiful when the room bathed in the reddening of sunset through the open window, your skin glowing, as the light graced your skin. The bed dipped beneath our weight as we settled on it.

"I love you." You whispered against my shoulder, and the deep moan left your throat when I slowly sank into you. Your body was amazing, the way you felt around me.

"I love you, too." I groaned those words against your temple, moving my hips with care. Sated as we both were moving together with our cadence, every touch and thrust became frantic, desperate pleas of contentment. You squeezed your legs tightly around my waist, enveloping me. I died momentarily in your arms, and God, above all the layers of the atmosphere I was in the blue halo, in heaven, when your body arched beneath mine. I buried my face in the crook of your neck, breathing in magnolia falling, my lips stalling on your skin. You cried into oblivion when you came, and I was right behind you, following you. I collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around my neck.

That's how we were, staying, and holding each other.

I can still feel them; the patterns you drew on my back with your fingers, lazy circles between my shoulder blades, as we listened to our breathings and felt the humming of skins, resting as the world was moving around us. I held you, and you let me, during the sunsets and dawns till the last day of July hit us. And when it did, the magnolia scent floated in the air slowly before drifting away.

**TBC**

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**Any thoughts? Please? Thanks for reading! I'll post the second part soon.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I would like to say so many things about this story, but I can't find the right words, so this chapter tells you everything that you need to know. Thank you so much for the feedback! Here is the second part which contains some adult stuff. **

**Remember, this is fiction.**

**Lily, your help is always appreciated, so thank you for reading this piece of angst. Mistakes are all mine. **

**Rating: M  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Magnolia Falling**

**Part II**

_The bed is unmade, and she hastily casts the blanket better over the wrinkled sheets. Her gaze sweeps across the room, lingering on the white magnolias resting in a vase over the dresser where she finds a pen and a letter. The words appear into the paper. She hears him calling her, so she ends her letter. She folds it, takes the missing items out of the first drawer and the pieces of her honor are left on the bedside table with her note. Leaving the room, she brushes the petals of the flowers with her fingers, a smile over her face._

-----

"The magnolia petals open in layers, shaped like a cup, and they are white with a yellow stamen in the center. Nobility and dignity are associated with the magnolia flower. It is known one of the prettiest flowers for its splendid beauty, so vibrant in its appearance…"

The florist explains to an old couple as I walk into the flower shop. I'm a little late for the traffic, but I'm soon there. It begins to darken though it never has been bright outside.

The couple nod in agreement. Yes, magnolia is a beautiful flower. I can't bear listening, so I interrupt them.

"One of those." I grunt my words.

The florist stops and looks at me a while. "Sir?" She asks annoyance clear in her voice.

"One of those." I point, and my voice cracks a bit as I look at the magnolias resting in vases. Everything about them resembles you. I struggle to compose myself, my breathing shallow, dull, and pointless. The florist's expression softens as if guessing my loss, but I don't want pity.

"Please?"

"Excuse me…" She apologizes at the couple, takes the flower I want and comes to cash me.

"Do I wrap it into cellophane?" I am asked.

"No, there is no need for that." I reply, hitting the money on the table, and leave, heading over the street to meet you at the other side.

---

"I'll miss you." I said, standing by the door frame where your luggage rested. The summer went so fast. My gaze swept across your bedroom, taking in the last day of July, the day you left. The flower vase was settled on the dresser. I remember it because with the breath of air through the open window a petal fell slowly, floating toward the floor. An omen, I get it know. The warm air seeped inside the room, the dawn settling.

You stood beside the bed, your hair tousled and your movements still drowsy. "Good morning."

You ran your fingers through your hair, lazily stretching, and your loose top rose just slightly but I saw the bare skin of your abdomen between the minor clothing. You lowered your hands and rolled your eyes for I couldn't stop watching you.

"Like what you see?" You chirped.

"I'll miss you." I repeated, and you got serious then, pursing your lips. My eyes weren't cerulean anymore. You strolled toward me, and I smelled magnolia on your skin.

"Mac, don't worry about me." You slid your hands along my chest onto my shoulders, locking your arms around my neck, and leaned to kiss me.

When we hit the bed you rolled on top of me and slid me all the way into you. Gasping, your hands pressed against my chest and your eyes were squeezed shut. I felt your torment and agony imprinted all over your body, and I didn't move a muscle as I was mortified of you trying to make me forget, not remember. You pressed your face against the crook of my neck, our skins grazing. Your fingers curled into the sheet beside my head and your mouth was heavy and hot. Your breath of air hit my skin with the coaxing lure, but I never obeyed you. I never punished you for leaving me. I wanted to remember, not forget.

"Don't do this." I flipped us over and pinned you between my body and the mattress, locking your hands above your head, ignoring your slight protest. "Don't try to forget us."

The sun didn't reach over your face, but I saw them, tears glimmering and shining. You turned your gaze away, shuddering, and your eyes closed. I kissed the corner of your eye, tasting saltiness on the tip of my tongue.

"Mac, please…" Your voice was hoarse as you solicited me. Tormented, feeling you beneath me, around me, I shared your ache and pushed deeper, slowly, the quiet intensity of devotion, and you met my thrusts with the same measure until we were buried with the yearning.

You rested beside me on the bed as long as it was possible, sharing the subdued moment.

"Where are you going?" You murmured when I rose up from the bed.

"Into the shower." I turned to look at you. "Rest, Stell. You have a long flight."

But you hauled yourself into a sitting position and looked at me underneath your eyelashes.

"Or you can always join me." I chuckled.

You rose up from the bed and walked past me, smiling. I was about to follow you, but the fallen petal on the floor captured my attention, and I watched the empty room for a moment. I felt weak, so I sat on the edge of the bed and buried my head into my hands. I heard you turning the shower on, and minutes passed.

"Mac?" You called me.

The mist spread on the mirror when I closed the door behind me.

"What took you so long?" You murmured.

"Nothing." My throat tightened, and I followed you under the spray of water. I closed my eyes, feeling the water hitting my face, and snaked my arms around your waist. You rested your head against my shoulder lacing your fingers with mine.

"I love you." The words stalled on your lips, and the water washed away my tears.

"Stell." I breathe, as I did back then, and stop my journey. I'm finally here.

---

Just before it was time to leave to the airport you stopped by the door. Your hair was still damp because of the shower.

"Wait." You hurried into the bedroom. I frowned a bit, looking at the watch, knowing the traffic of the city sometimes being so unforgiving.

Stell?" I called after you. "Did you forget something?"

Then you appeared into my vision, smiling. "No. I'm ready."

I drove you to the airport and carried your belongings through the terminal. I followed you to the gate where you boarded the plane. I used my badge to gain the access of seeing you as long as I could and kissed the crown of your head as it was time for our goodbyes.

"Mac?" A smile curled your lips.

"Tell me."

"It just…" Your voice trailed off, your chin quivering. You were so fragile all of sudden and I got the feeling that something bothered you, but you never told me what. "Nothing… I'm going to miss you, too."

After kissing me, you gathered your things and headed toward the boarding point. Before you vanished into the dark tunnel that leaded into the plane you turned to look at me. I noticed your hesitation and was meant to run after you but you made the fatal decision faster before I could stop you from leaving, and you turned your back to me.

I watched the take off the planes, remembering the time I flew with you over the clouds in the cerulean, the time I brought you home, but eventually I had to leave and found myself heading toward your place. The sunset was dusky as I found your letter with your badge and gun resting on the bedside table.

_Mac, I'm sorry. I would never forget you, you know that right? Please, take care of these while I'm gone. I love you, S._

I cried drowning your last words, because at that moment I realized at some unconscious level you weren't coming back. In no other circumstances would you have given the pieces of your spirit away.

---

You called me every night to say goodnight though. It was, of course, the daytime in New York when you rested your head against the pillow, breathing in the foreign scents. We spoke a lot, during the different hours of days. You fell in silence from time to time, but you never told me if something bothered you, if something haunted you. More often we were both quiet, as I just listened to your calm breathing of falling asleep through the phone. I was given glances at work because I didn't usually hold the phone against my ear for hours without speaking at all. I didn't mind, because no one knew about the serenity hearing your breathing gave me.

But the day arrived when you didn't call me. The threat of fear whirled in my stomach as I waited so desperately for your call. Regret of letting you walk into the plane still haunts me. I tried to call you so many times that I can't even remember anymore. I even called into your hotel and asked for the reception clerk to knock on your door, to see if you were in your room. I tried to find reasons why you didn't respond to my calls during the terrified hours of waiting. I snapped and yelled at our colleagues when they interrupted me. I made calls, used my connections to find you, but failed my solitary mission.

I wanted to believe that you would call me eventually, so I waited and waited. A day went by, almost another too, before the ringing sound of my phone pierced the air in my office, and I knew. I knew the call was about you.

It was the ambassador calling from the American embassy in Greece. After a short introduction she asked if I knew you and explained that my name stood in your papers. You have claimed me as your next of kin, and they needed to confirm that.

What papers, I wanted to ask, and when you added me as your next of kin.

Was it after Frankie?

Was it after the fire in your apartment?

Was it before Greece?

Before your last journey?

Was it when, I can only guess.

"Yes." I said my voice ragged and broke down before hearing the message of the ferryman.

"I'm sorry, detective Taylor. Our law enforcement will do everything to solve—"

"Was she killed in revenge?" I closed my eyes, concentrating in breathing. The ambassador didn't ask, and I didn't tell her either what I referred to, but we spoke about the same subject. The woman's voice was too strained and narrow as she said no.

"Do you honestly think that I believe any of your words?" I snapped, and the ambassador listened to my wrath toward life. My voice cracked as I asked when I would get you home, and she informed me about the official police investigation and went on and on about the protocols. And I gave in, listening, hearing nothing, the life draining out of me.

---

I was alone, as I am right now watching your name in the marble stone in the graveyard, when you were brought back to me with solemnly. You were carried out of the plane, and your casket was mahogany, solid wood, the star flag neatly folded above it. I was asked if I wanted to see you.

"Yes." I rasped and was guided beside your coffin. I tightened my jaw in an effort to stem my emotions, but my eyes shone with redness, tears falling, falling and falling. I couldn't deny you being my everything. Trembling, I traced the line of your ashen lips with my fingers, leaned to kiss your cold cheek and cried in agony, wishing that I could have held you in my arms the moment the death consumed you. I couldn't bear the thought of you dying alone.

I never made that far reading the police report to see the crime scene photos or your autopsy report, because I could imagine your pain and the way blood seeped from your gunshot wound without seeing any pictures of the tragedy. After the hell had broken lose and the dust had landed, your saviors in white said in their reports that you had tried to say something with your last breath, but your secret had died on your lips with a cough of blood.

What did you want to tell?

The whirl of air hits against my face, and I fell on my knees on the ground in front of your gravestone.

What were your last words?

I'm in the darkness in every way.

---

We never discussed it, the way you wanted to go. I always believed that it was me who was meant to leave first. But knowing how you never wanted to draw attention to yourself I figured you wanted to leave in peace and tranquility.

The rows in the chapel were filled with friends, the people who mattered to you. The back rows swam in the ocean of blue, the color you loved so much, the uniformed officers sitting silently honoring you, their fallen fellow. I was asked to give a eulogy about you, but I declined. I'm sorry if I disappointed you. I was greedy about holding the details of who you were to myself. And somehow I couldn't bring myself to stand in front of the people and see their pity.

I sat on a bench in the first row, my eyes locked on you casket through the service. I followed you into the rain, outside, where you were lowered into the ground. After people leaving their last goodbyes the shots of honor were fired in the air. I bet you hated that kind of attention but I couldn't deny you being honored. I couldn't deny you being remembered.

I draw a shattered breath, but there isn't enough air to fill my lungs at the moment of pain and sorrow. The biggest oak in the cemetery shadows your stone, though the tree is barren. The spring and summer are late, but when the summer arrives the tree will swim with verdure, sheltering your resting place. I place the magnolia flower on the cold ground and dig my hands into the still frozen earth.

"I miss you." I whisper. "I miss you…"

And you slowly appear into my vision the transparent light surrounding you, through my tears. You smile like a year ago, on the day I realized that I loved you, on the day my heart beat its own requiem.

After too short seconds, you are already leaving me.

"Please..." I plead, and the smile dies on your face. You used to talk to me, too, but I can't hear your voice anymore. It's only when I stay awake at nights and have a vision of you crumbling to the ground your hands over your abdomen I can hear you asking why I don't sleep. As much as it hurts I always give the truth. I would have done it, without any hesitations, if I had been there with you. I would have taken the bullet. I would have been your guardian angel.

"Please, don't go." I pray a little harder to have another second with you, because, no, you can't leave me so soon. In my shattered tranquility you turn your back to me. "Don't go." You stop, as I stall my vision of you, and peek over your shoulder for the last time before vanishing. Tears burn, and ache consumes me more than I can bear. I let my fingers follow the edge of the marble arch of your stone, the scent of magnolia carrying me.

Yes, I'll see you soon, in the blue halo.

**The End**

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Thank you for reading this story. I would love to know what you thought about it.**


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